


Sailing Away

by silver_chipmunk



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:45:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_chipmunk/pseuds/silver_chipmunk
Summary: Post Sweet Revenge, Starsky feels restless.  Hutch thinks up something for them to do.





	Sailing Away

Sailing Away

 

“You know what the worst part of getting better is?” Starsky asked moodily one day, over breakfast in the small house he and Hutch were sharing while Starsky recovered from Gunther’s assassination attempt. “I’ve already done everything I physically can do. More than once. And no,” he added, “I’m not talking about sex.”

“Good.” Hutch replied. “I’d be worried if there weren’t more things you could think of that we haven’t done yet.” He smiled. It was only recently he and Starsky had become lovers and there were plenty of things they hadn’t gotten around to yet. 

But Starsky was not deterred. “I mean things I’m doing during the day, while you’re at work. Or even when you’re here and we’re not gettin’ it on. We play games. People come and visit. That’s nice, but nothing new. I go to my therapy; I take walks on the beach. Nothing new.” He sighed.

“So you’re bored, is that it?” Hutch asked sympathetically, stirring his coffee.

“Not exactly.” Starsky reached for words. “It’s just… I want to do something different. Not just sit around here and wait for people to stop by.” He studied his bagel and cream cheese. “Or go see someone else. Or take a walk. I want to do something… different. I’d like to play some basketball, but the doc says I’m not ready yet.”

“More restless than bored, then?”

Starsky nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Hutch regarded his partner and lover with concern. “You know, since you’re cleared to drive again, you could just take a ride somewhere.”

Starsky shrugged. “Done that. And walks too. And I’ve read all the books that the professor left here that interest me.” Hutch was not sure that was true; the professor who they were house sitting for had a sizable book collection. But he realized Starsky was in a grumpy mood.

He glanced at the clock. “I have to get going to work now, Starsk. But I promise I’ll try to think of something interesting for us to do.” He gave Starsky a long, lingering good-bye kiss, and then left for the station.

He kept thinking about the conversation, though. What could he and Starsky do that would keep that agile, quicksilver mind occupied and entertained? Something new, but that he could be fairly certain Starsky would like? 

All through that day in his free moments he considered the problem. He even asked his new partner, who was in the know about him and Starsky, for suggestions, but he had no ideas. 

Then, when he was filling out paperwork in the squad room, something, he wasn’t sure what, gave him an answer. Something Starsky would almost certainly enjoy, that Hutch knew he would enjoy too, but that they had never done together. It only took a little research and time to set up. Smiling to himself he reached for the phone book.

That night before he left work he called Starsky and told him he’d be a little bit late coming home. Then he drove to the self-storage unit where the contents of their two apartments were waiting until they were needed again. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, and he carefully loaded everything out of sight in the trunk of his car. This, he had decided, was going to be kept secret, and be a surprise.

Then he drove home. Starsky had dinner ready, as he had been doing most nights when Hutch worked, since he got well enough. Nothing fancy, just a meatloaf, but Starsky made a very good meatloaf.

When they had finished, and the dishes were done, as they were sitting in the living room relaxing, he brought up the subject.

“I was thinking today about what you said this morning, Starsk,” he started.

Starsky shrugged. “Aw Hutch, I was just belly achin’. I’m ok.”

“No, I think you’re right. We’ve gotten into a rut. I think we need to do something new. And tomorrow, I made arrangements, and we are going to do something different.”

“You didn’t have ta’ do that, Babe,” Starsky said, but his expression was one of anticipation. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll find out tomorrow.” 

Now Starsky was definitely intrigued, Hutch could see. “Aw come on, Hutch, what is it?”

But Hutch was firm. “Nope, Starsk, you’ll find out tomorrow. We have to get up early, too, so we should get to bed soon.”

The next morning, bright and early, they were up. Hutch told Starsky to dress in his usual jeans and a warm shirt, and did the same himself. They had a solid breakfast, eggs and toast. Then he loaded Starsky, and a cooler chest with lunch in it, into his car, and started off.

It was a warm, breezy late summer day, the sky was blue and the sun was bright. They drove toward the shore, and Starsky began to make guesses about what they were doing.

“OK, we’re not doing a day at the beach, cause we’ve done that lotsa’ times before, and you said something new.”

Hutch smiled. “That’s right. But not entirely.”

Then they reached their destination, the Bay City Marina. Hutch pulled into the parking lot. “Here we are,” he said. Starsky looked around. 

“Boats?” he asked.

“Sailboats, Starsk. We are going sailing. I have rented us a small boat that I know I can handle, and we are going to sail around the harbor. And…” he added, opening the trunk, “We are going to go fishing while we’re at it. I have all our fishing gear here.”

They checked in at the rental office and found where their boat was moored, and Hutch paid. They made a stop at a nearby Bait and Tackle shop for supplies, and then they loaded the fishing equipment and the cooler into the little boat, and cast off. 

“Put on your life jacket,” he said sternly to Starsky, fitting his own actions to his words.

He used the motor to slowly pull away from the pier and head to open water.

“I forgot you could sail,” Starsky admitted.

“Four years of being a Sea Scout, Starsk,” Hutch said. “People forget just how big Lake Superior is. Over thirty thousand square miles of deep water. Of course people in Duluth sail. It’s one of the major port cities in the US.” He stopped the engine, and started rigging the sail.

It was a beautiful day for sailing. The wind was crisp and clean, and the water was calm, with just enough waves to make it fun. Gulls soared overhead, their white wings tracing patterns against the blue sky, their mournful cries shrill and discordant. It was quiet out on the water, except for the gulls, the rush of the wind, the slap of the waves, and the creaking of the lines.

Hutch took them around the harbor, tacking against the wind, and sailing with it back. They waved at people in other boats. Hutch let Starsky take the tiller and showed him how to steer.

“Do you like it?” Hutch asked.

“It’s great!” Starsky replied. “It’s like flying! Why didn’t we ever do this before?”

Hutch shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought of it.”

“Well you shoulda’,” Starsky said.

They went along the coast, not getting too far out.

“It’s been a long time since I did this,” Hutch explained. “I might be a little rusty, and if anything happens, I want to be near shore.” But nothing untoward happened, and Hutch found all his lessons coming back to him.

“Maybe another time we can take a real trip, out to Catalina Island or somewhere,” he said.

“That would be great,” Starsky said.

They kept on for a few hours, until the midday. 

Finally Hutch lowered the sails so they stopped, and only drifted gently with the current. He opened the cooler, and they had lunch, thick meaty sandwiches washed down with root beer. (Starsky’s medicines kept him from drinking real beer, and Hutch didn’t want to make him feel bad by drinking it in front of him.)

Then they brought out the fishing gear and set up. Their luck was phenomenal, the fish were biting fine. They mostly caught bass, and they kept some for dinner, but threw the rest back.

Finally Starsky took a break and lay back against the side of the boat. “Come ‘ere,” he said to Hutch, and leered comically. 

Hutch laughed, but came over anyway, and slid down beside Starsky. Starsky pulled him to him, and for a few moments they kissed deeply. But when Starsky tried to tug him over into a straddling position, Hutch gently broke the kiss and pushed him away.

“Bad idea, Starsk. An open boat, with fishing gear all over, getting naked is a good way to get a fish hook in a place you don’t want a fish hook.”

Starsky sighed. “I guess you’re right. But when we get home tonight, you better be ready!”

Hutch laughed. “Oh, I will be.” He detangled himself from Starsky with a final promissory kiss.

They fished for about an hour longer. At last, though, Starsky began to show signs of being tired, and Hutch called an end to the day. They packed up the fishing equipment and Hutch raised the sails again.

It took much less time getting back then it had going out, since they went directly back, not spending time on sight-seeing, and soon they were back at the marina. Hutch lowered the sail for the last time, and used the motor to gently propel the boat to the pier. He moored it, and helped Starsky out, along with their equipment.

One quick stop at the rental office, and then they were loading everything back in Hutch’s car. The ride back was quick, because Hutch had thoughts of that final kiss lingering on his mind.

When they got home they unloaded the fishing equipment and cooler as fast as they could. Hutch refrigerated the two fish they had kept, and then caught Starsky around the waist.

They kissed passionately. Hutch nibbled on Starsky’s ear. “Want to take a shower first? Together? We’re both pretty grimy.”

“Yeah!” Starsky growled huskily. He enthusiastically started stripping off Hutch’s clothing, and leading him to the bathroom. They left a trail of discarded clothes through the living room and down the hall.

By the time they reached the bathroom they were both naked, and sporting enthusiastic erections. Hutch ran the water in the shower to a nice warm, invigorating temperature, and they stepped in.

They soaped each other up, taking their time, stroking their hands over each other’s body. Hutch took the bottle of shampoo and lathered Starsky’s lavish curls. Starsky knelt down in the pouring water, and took Hutch in his mouth. 

Hutch moaned as Starsky sucked and licked along his swollen length. Then Starsky pulled away. “P’toey” he spat. “Soap in my mouth. Let’s hurry up and save this for the bedroom.” 

Hutch laughed huskily. “OK by me. But be fast.”

Starsky rinsed his hair with a little help from Hutch, and they stepped out of the shower.

Stopping only to turn off the water, not even waiting to towel off, Hutch scooped Starsky up in his arms. Starsky had gained back most of the weight he had lost in the hospital after the shooting but was still light enough for Hutch to carry him with only minor difficulty to the bedroom, deposit him in the king sized bed, and slide in beside him.

Starsky rolled over and trapped Hutch beneath him. “Ready now?” he asked, kissing a line down Hutch’s chest and belly.

“Oh yeah,” Hutch murmured. 

Once again Starsky captured Hutch’s hardness in his mouth. He worked up and down, running his tongue along the whole length. Hutch moaned as he paid special attention to the uncircumcised head, gently playing his teeth along and sucking enthusiastically.

“Oh God, yes!” he gasped out as Starsky brought up a hand and cradled his balls. With his other hand Starsky reached up and played with Hutch’s nipples. 

Hutch moaned and gasped. He cradled Starsky’s head in his hands, twining his fingers in the damp curls. Starsky increased the tempo of his attentions, and Hutch writhed in pleasure beneath him. 

Then at last with a final shout of release, his hips arched up and he felt the incredible rush of pleasure as he came deep down Starsky’s throat. Starsky swallowed the load without complaint, and gave him a final affectionate lick as he pulled away and lay beside him, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Hutch lay breathing heavily. “Oh God you are good at that!” he whispered huskily. He pulled Starsky to him and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. 

“There’s something else I’m good at, and I think you like that too,” Starsky said, gently pulling away from Hutch. “Turn over, Babe, it’s my turn now.”

Hutch rolled on his stomach, shivering with anticipation as Starsky arranged him on his knees doggy-style, with his ass conveniently in the air. Starsky reached for the container of lube that rested on the bedside table. 

He squeezed some of the jelly out in his cupped hand and began to massage Hutch’s waiting orifice.

“Oh yeah,” Hutch gasped as Starsky gently worked a well lubed finger in, and began working it back and forth. His tight muscles began to relax under Starsky’s attentions, and he rocked to the rhythm of the in and out motions, enjoying the sensation of being penetrated. 

Then Starsky slid another finger in beside the first one, and reached deeper, to find Hutch’s prostate. Hutch moaned as Starsky gently massaged the spot. He was hard again, and building up to another orgasm when Starsky pulled his fingers out.

Starsky leaned over and whispered in Hutch’s ear “Are you ready?”

“Oh yeah! Give it to me, Starsk!”

Starsky took another handful of the lube, and stroked his own pulsing erection. Then he positioned himself on his knees behind Hutch and pushed himself in slowly.

Hutch gasped as the thickness slid into him. It seemed to take forever until Starsky had his full length sheathed inside. But then finally he did. He rested for a moment, then, slowly at first, then building up faster, he began to pump in and out. He leaned over Hutch and held his shoulders for leverage.

Hutch ground his hips back and forth, meeting each of Starsky’s straining pushes with his own. The bed creaked with the rocking motion and Hutch was suddenly reminded of their day on the boat, rocking back and forth. 

But he didn’t think of it long, as the incredible sensations overwhelmed his conscious mind. He was building to another climax, and so was Starsky, he could feel it, as Starsky moaned and grunted. “Oh God yes Hutch, you’re so hot and tight…”

Suddenly with a final shout, Starsky came, pulsing deep inside Hutch, and Hutch felt his own climax bursting through him in response. “Oh Babe, oh Starsk, yes!” he cried.

Finished, they lay in each other’s arms, panting. Hutch gently nuzzled Starsky’s hair and kissed his ear.

Minutes passed. Finally Hutch stirred. “I think we need another shower after that, Babe.”

Starsky laughed. “You go first. I’m just going to lay here.”

“You hungry?”

“I could eat a horse,” Starsky said emphatically.

“Haven’t got a horse, but how about some fresh sea bass?”

“Sounds great!”

So after they cleaned up, Hutch cleaned and cooked their catch. 

That night in bed, before they fell asleep, Hutch turned to Starsky. “So, was this day what you wanted to feel less restless?” 

“Oh yeah. It was a great day, thanks, Hutch.”

“Want to do it again?”

“You bet. ‘Specially if it ends the same way!”

Hutch chuckled. “Liked that, did you?”

Starsky snuggled against him. “With you, always.”

“Same here. But I meant the sailing. You liked it? Want me to teach you how to do it too? If we both knew how, we could get a bigger boat, with a cabin, and maybe even take it out overnight.”

“Sure. That would be a lotta’ fun.”

“OK, then, it’s a plan.”

And with that they settled down, and were both soon asleep, worn out by the day’s exertions.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: People make fun of Hutch claiming to have been a Sea Scout, but he easily could have been. As he says in the story, Duluth is a major deep water port, and Lake Superior is huge. A web search found that there were Sea Scouts in Duluth around the time Hutch was a teenager, so why not take him at his word?


End file.
